And to All a Good Night
by shimotsuki11
Summary: Teddy starts asking questions about Father Christmas. The answer he gets is completely unexpected. RLNT, Andromeda, Teddy. AU, in the "By A Thread" ficverse.


**And to All a Good Night**

_December, 2000_

"Daddy!" Teddy, wearing footed pyjamas and smelling faintly of bath soap, launched himself into Remus's lap.

Remus closed _Magillicuddy's Compleat History of Goblin Rights Legislation_ and set it on the table next to his armchair, feigning surprise. "What's this? Do you suppose it's time for—a _bedtime story?_"

Teddy giggled. Dora, who had been on bath duty that night, winked at them and headed into the front hall with her dragonhide Auror boots in one hand and a bottle of KleerShine Magical Shoe Polish in the other. Andromeda glanced up from the accounts ledger she had brought home from work with an indulgent smile.

Remus loved these winter evenings, when they were all at home in their little house by the pond, and the low dark sky outside only made the fire on the hearth burn all the brighter.

"Here's a book we haven't read before." Remus had, in fact, made a special trip to Muggle London to find a copy. "It's one that your grandmother Margaret used to read to me, when _I_ was a small boy and Christmas was coming."

Teddy gazed curiously at the cover of the book, which showed Father Christmas in his sleigh silhouetted against a starry sky.

"_A Visit,_" read Remus, "_from St. Nicholas_. That's another name for Father Christmas."

Teddy nodded gravely.

Remus, hiding a smile, turned to the first page and began.

"'_Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house..._"

**~o~o~o~**

"_And I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,_  
'_Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.'_"

Remus closed the book. "Did you like the story?"

Teddy nodded vigorously, opening the book again to look at the pictures.

But then the small brow wrinkled, just like Dora's did when she was trying to work something out. "Daddy? Is Father Christmas real?"

There was a sound from the front hall, as though a dragonhide boot had toppled over.

Remus looked up and found his mother-in-law watching him steadily.

Inscrutably.

No matter; he knew perfectly well what Andromeda thought about Father Christmas. He would never forget the first Christmas after he had come to know Dora, that year when he'd been living at Grimmauld Place with Sirius. He could still see the half-sheepish echo of disappointment in her eyes when she'd explained that her mother hadn't let her believe in Father Christmas as a child.

"You see, Teddy," he began, "Father Christmas is a lovely Muggle story—"

"What do _you_ think, Teddy?" asked Andromeda, suddenly. "Do you think Father Christmas is real?"

Teddy pondered, briefly. "Yeah. If he comes down the chimney, that's like the Floo."

"Well, then," said Andromeda calmly. "There you are." She settled her ledger more comfortably on her lap. "I suppose you'd better get to bed, if you want Father Christmas to fill your stocking tonight."

Remus stared.

Dora, poking her head in from the front hall, stared.

Andromeda looked from one to the other, and gave a small elegant shrug. "Teddy has Muggle heritage on both sides," she said, quietly. "It is right for him to have some Muggle traditions, too."

"Thanks, Mum." Dora's voice was a little thick.

"Time for bed, Teddy," said Remus. "Give your Gran a kiss goodnight."

Teddy slid obediently off his lap and crossed the room to give Andromeda a kiss on the cheek.

Before he followed his son upstairs, Remus did the same**.**

**~o~o~o~**

A few hours later, on his way to bed, Remus peered into Teddy's room.

It was empty.

Remus turned around to find Dora grinning at him. "Come and see," she said. "Shh."

She led him down the stairs, on tiptoe, and into the living room.

There, on the floor in front of the fireplace, was Teddy, sound asleep.

"Look at our little Marauder," Dora whispered, sounding proud enough to burst. "Trying to catch Father Christmas out!"

"Father Christmas hasn't been yet, I see," Remus murmured, pointing. "Look what your mother's done."

Dora saw it, then, and drew a sharp breath.

Hanging from the mantelpiece was a single stocking, frayed and faded with age. It hung limply, still empty—

But there was a name embroidered, slightly unevenly, across the top.

_Ted.__  
_

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
